


Big Plans

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson's terrible crush on Skye, Drinking, F/M, Flirting, Humor, Jealousy, Kissing, Shopping, Skye's horrible crush on Coulson, hipster culture, skoulsonfest2k15, this is just ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skoulsonfest2k15 - Day Seven: Free Theme.  Skye and Coulson head to Austin, Texas to meet up with Miles and wacky hi jinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts).



"We waited in line for an hour. For a hamburger."  
  
"I know. It was totally worth it, right?"  
  
They were in Austin, Texas, because Skye had been offered some sensitive info from the Rising Tide (really, from Miles) that he wanted to hand off in person, rather than through SHIELD's secure channels.

Or, SHIELD's "supposedly secure channels" as Miles had mentioned to Coulson over the video conference.

Obviously, they knew about HYDRA's infiltration of SHIELD, and, according to Miles, that made SHIELD slightly less scary, but infinitely more incompetent.

Coulson had turned off the video chat by pretending to push a wrong button (because: incompetent) when Miles had started in on how he hoped they were doing a better job at picking up the pieces.

At least, that's what he thought he was probably going to say.

"You said it was going to be a 'quick bite to eat'," Skye said, glancing at her phone.

"Big plans?" Coulson asked her as they stood outside of the restaurant looking at the line formed down the block. Just an hour and a half ago, it had been them standing there making awkward small talk. Which, somehow, he had managed to enjoy anyway.

His eyes drifted to the phone in her hand.

"Miles asked to meet up with me tonight," she confessed.

Skye had been with Miles earlier that day in a coffee shop, across the bridge and closer to downtown, while Coulson had kept his own business just outside.  
  
When she emerged alone, Coulson had suggested they get something to eat and they started walking when she didn't disagree.

"If you wanted to go with Miles you should've just said so."  
  
"He just wants to catch up," she reassures him, giving him a look, then pocketing the phone.

"You should call him, maybe you can still meet him for a drink?" He paused as people passed by them on the sidewalk, then added quietly, "Get some more tips on how to run SHIELD?"  
  
She looked annoyed.  
  
He looked annoyed.

"No?" he asked, shifting his weight to his other hip. "I wanted to stop in a store." He glanced across the street. "Do you mind?"  
  
"Not at all," she said, as they headed for the light at the intersection to cross.

"I haven't told him anything yet," she said over the traffic noise, as he punched the street crossing button.

"That's your business," he answered quickly. Then he frowned for a moment. "Why didn't you just go with him after the handoff?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "He was acting weird about it," she continued, as they crossed when the light changed. "I think he's still intimidated by you."

"That's terrible," Coulson said with a little smile. "I feel so horrible," he continued, turning back to her, as she shoved him forward through the crosswalk.

Her phone started to ring. "I'll meet you inside," she said quietly as she answered the phone. "Miles, hi. Yeah..."

He left her behind and opened the door and breathed in.

The scent lingering was a mixture of old paper and burning sage as he took in a first impression, then made his way through the front of the store, cataloguing the small labels he'd never heard of and touching the fabrics methodically.

Welcoming the distraction. He knew he shouldn't have come. He could've sent Bobbi or Hunter with her. Couldn't just leave it alone.

He walks past a wall of antlers, jackets made out of repurposed blankets, and vintage cameras on antique wood counters, waiting for something to really jump out and grab him.

A lot of dead ends. Plaid upon plaids. The too obvious mens stuff. Old Playboys. James Bond. Screenprinted lameness.

The occassional thing catches his eye. Some good vintage vinyl, but nothing to rival his collection.

He likes knowing the way things are made. How someone learns it and then reinterprets it. He's not any good at it himself, but it fascinates him.

That connection to history and building on what came before.

***

"I found something for you."

Skye suddenly appears while he's looking through a mix of small batch colognes, sort of fascinated by the smell of one's combination of salt water and clover.

She's broken the spell of his treasure-hunt, and there's something about her excitement, the flush in her face, the fact that she's even here, as she grabs his hand without notice and pulls him along with her deeper into the back of the shop.

"Look at this," she said, bending down towards a small, round antique table. "It's your pocket thing, but it has a tiny record player sewn on it."

He can't really tell, so he picks the handkerchief up and looks at it more closely and runs his fingers over the stitches. "It does."

"Super cool, but, it's like, $50 bucks. Slim."

"What is that?" he asks, looking at the cup in her hand, noting the fresh nickname and just now noticing the eager young man crammed near the dressing room who is clean shaven, except for his giant and perfect mustache. And his half-empty bottle of whiskey.

"Whiskey," she says. "It's a tasting. I'm tasting."

Now that his attention isn't divided, he notices she's not wearing the same shirt, either.

"Oh," she says, fingering the off-white men's shirt. "What do you think?"

"It's nice," he answers bithely, trying to let his brain catch up. He'd thought she was still outside on the phone. Or worse. Gone.

"I liked how the buttons were darker," she continued. "And the way it fits?" She pulled at the shirt. "With this one little pocket?"

"Maybe I should get one, then we can match?"

She's taken aback a little by his teasing comment. "It was on the sale rack, _last one_ ," she adds competitively.

"I was joking."

"You sure?" she asks, eyeing him suspiciously, taking another sip from the cup.

He knows he shouldn't ask. But he hasn't stopped wondering. Not really.

"What happened to Miles?"

She thinks about it a moment before answering.

"If I wanted to be with Miles, I would be with Miles," she said, locking eyes with him. "Want some?"

He stops staring at her long enough to look at her hand wiggling the cup.

It might as well be the Apple at this point.

They walk towards the dressing room together and the young man with the extreme facial-hair situation.

"Would you like to try some whisky?" the guy asks him, pouring into a cup. "It's Texas-made."

"Shirts," Skye says, pointing towards the dressing room and making a face as she slips away.

"Yeah." He watches her disappear into the stall, and Mr. Mustache pours some whisky into the bottom of a cup before handing it over.

"She's trying on shirts," the younger man says with a smile, as Coulson nods.

"This store is so expensive," Skye interrupts from inside. "But all these shirts were on sale and...I'm probably going to buy one."

"Cheers," the guy said.

"Not bad," Coulson said, after tasting it and swirling around the rest in the bottom of the cup.

"What do you think?" she asked, opening the dressing room to appear in another button down shirt. "I want to wear it out."

"You should," he said, looking her over. This one is a faded blue, with some kind of double layer that lets a darker blue peek out from the woven top layer.

"I have some others, though," she said, running her fingers through her hair. "This one is just..."

He's thinking about never looking at a men's shirt the same way again.

She steps closer towards him when he leans his arm up against the top of the open door a little.

"I know that look," she said, giving him a little elbow. "Go find your own shirt, pal."

He feels a smirk coming on. It's familiar, and more than a little flirty.

"Do I look like a flannel kind of guy to you?"

She eyes him in his jeans and worn olive green button down.

"We could find out," she answers, hesitating for just a moment and then touching her hand to the front of his shirt.

If she's not mistaken, that's what Coulson blushing looks like.

"Too obvious?" she asked, with a breathless little smile as she's looking over his expression.

"You, or me?" he asked, swallowing, he had taken a few steps forward until they were backed into the dressing room, as the door banged shut behind them.

She kissed him before he could keep talking.

He kissed back.

  
***

  
The knock on the door takes her off guard, so she goes for her gun before leaning against the exterior wall.

It's a weird hour to be getting knocks, but it is the diviest motel on South Congress Avenue, so it's possible it's someone drunk or looking to score.

"Yes?" she says to the door.

"It's me."

Skye sighs and shoves the gun into the back of her jeans as she swings the motel door open.

"Miles."

"Sorry to show up like this," he says, looking a little sheepish. "Can I come in?"

"Not a good time," she says, crossing her arms as if to let him know he's not going any further.

Miles tries a smile at her. "Look, I didn't like how our conversation ended. I just want to talk, not try to make anything more complicated than it already..."

He glances up and sees Coulson cross the room wearing a bathrobe.

"...is?"

Skye sighs again and turns over her shoulder to look at Coulson looking up at Miles.

"Outside," she says, herding him with her hand as she shuts the door behind him.

"The old guy?" he asks, turning on her. "You're sleeping with the old guy?"

"You were an _older guy_...at the time," she said, raising her voice to throw it back at him.

"Not old enough to be your...," he stopped himself when she made a chilling face. "He's your boss. Is that how they like to run things over at SHIELD?!"

She could point out that Miles had sort of been her mentor, but, whatever.

"None of your business, Miles."

"I knew when he kicked me off that plane, _I knew_ he had a thing for you then. He was _so happy_ to get rid of me."

"At that point, _I_ was happy to get rid of you," she said. "Is that what all of this is about?"

"I just wanted to know," he went on. "You've been gone for months and after everything about HYDRA in all the data streams. To find out you were still alive and that you were still with SHIELD?" he said, tossing his hand towards the door. "What are you thinking?"

"About what? This? This...just happened," she said.

"What?"

"Tonight."

"You and the suit?" he said, starting to laugh humorlessly. "It doesn't even make sense."

"Actually, it might make a lot of sense. And I need to go," she said. "We'll be in touch, okay?"

" _Skye_. Right," he said, looking her over with a sigh, then turning around to walk off.

She glanced around out of habit and then slowly opened the door of the motel room.

Coulson was dressed, and putting on his watch.

"Hey," she said, taking out her gun and setting it on the tv stand.

"Thanks for letting me use the blowdryer."

"No problem," she said. "I kind of did get you to spill whiskey down the front of your shirt."

He walked over towards her and checked her expression.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

She nodded and he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.

"You still want to go out?"

"I do," she said. "It's not very often I get you all to myself."

"Let me just check in first," he said, pulling out the satphone.

  
***

  
"Not really ideal," he said, looking across the table at her apologetically. "Sorry."

He was hoping for some cozy corner of a bar, and instead they were on the patio and very exposed.

"Austin's not really a 24-hour town," she replied, setting her chin on her hand.

It was one of the only places open this late, and there was a roaring fire in the pit next to them, and a blanket on her lap, and they were sharing a dessert and a bottle of wine.

"This kind of feels like a date," she said. "And I don't mean just right now. The whole day."

"That's my fault," he said, fidgeting with the silverware. "I think I had some ulterior motives tagging along today."

She was about to say something when the waiter came by to drop off the dessert in front of them and uncork the wine.

They waited patiently through the whole rigamarole as the waiter poured and then let him taste it, finally pouring them both glasses and left.

"You were confessing?" she said, picking up her fork and stabbing into the bread pudding.

"I might be a little jealous of Miles," he answered, looking up at her. "Of your relationship with him."

"My non-existent one?" she asked, staring back at him before taking a bite.

"That you were so close," he replied, rubbing his fingers together nervously while his fork hovered over the plate. "And I'm not talking about sex. I mean...you were close."

"We're close," she replied, watching him finally go after the dessert. "You've saved my life. I've saved yours. Band of brothers."

He chuckled a little, nodded appreciatively at the bite he took and nervously drank some of the wine.

"This job makes it hard for me to get close to people," he sighed. "Even if I want to."

"You seemed like you were liking to in the shop earlier," she said.

"I got carried away," he answered quickly, looking away for a moment, then pursed his lips and looked back at her.

"So, that's _that_...," she said, taking a sip of her wine. "What's all this for, then?"

"Because I _like you_ and I'm trying to get to know you," he said, leaning forward. "And, we need to talk about this."

"Or," she replied, sitting back in the chair holding onto her wine glass. "We can go back to my room and make out some more?"

 

***

"We're going to talk about this later, right?" he asked, as she tossed the keys and the bottle of wine on the bed then pushed him up against the motel room door with a loud thud, attacking the buttons on the front of his shirt as he kissed her.

"Yes, I promise," she said, offering her opinion as oxygen became available. "We can talk about it...all night...if you want to."

His hands tugged the bottom of her shirt out from her jeans.

"I mean it," he pressed, leaning back against the door as he felt the soft skin of her waist against his fingertips.

"Coulson," she said, as her face hovered over his. "I'm taking this _very_ seriously. I've thought about it. _You've_ thought about it, or you wouldn't be here right now."

"True," he said, as he swept his hand under her hair to the back of her neck and kissed her all open-mouthed and eager.

"You're a good kisser," she breathed against his parted lips.

"I'm good at lots of things," he said, kissing his way down her neck as she made a series of approving noises.

" _Show me_."

"Maybe I should slow down?" he said, as she pulled him along by the hand towards the bed.

"What's the use of being so good if you're not going to use it?" she laughed, running her hand up under his t-shirt and over his stomach.

His wrists went on hers, stopping her hands before they went higher.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Everything," he said, tipping her face towards him. "Just not all at once."

She paused at that, staring at his mouth, his chest taking in deep breaths.

"Is this some kind of Jedi mind trick?" she asked, intrigued.

"No," he said, frowning at her for a moment. "Also, I haven't done this in awhile."

" _Now_ the real reason comes out," she says, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"And you're half my age, and gorgeous," he said, sitting down next to her.

"You have a list, don't you?" she asked, moving the keys and the bottle of wine from the bed to the nightstand.

"I did have a list, sort of. I just spent the whole day scratching things off that list that I maybe have," he said.

"Are you done talking yet?" she said sweetly, looking up at him.

"For now," he said, running his lips over her neck. "Besides, there's so much of you to kiss."

"You've developed a plan, quick thinking," she said, tapping her head with one hand as she slid her hand over his knee.

"Starting with this," he said, standing, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her forehead.

"And this," he said, kneeling to dot kisses on her cheeks, feeling her eyelashes flutter against his nose.

"Here," he added, putting his lips to her chin, and then his teeth, and then his lips again.

She felt his mouth start to travel down her collar bone, and his hands on the button of her jeans.

"What happened to we should slow down?" she asked.

"I said _I_ should slow down," he said with a smirk, pulling her towards the edge of the bed.

 


End file.
